I'll Be Home For Christmas
by brickroad16
Summary: After three decades of marriage, Chuck tries to find the perfect gift for his wife, while Sarah struggles with hosting the entire family for Christmas, minus her youngest daughter, who has followed in her footsteps.


**Title**: Home for Christmas**  
>Author<strong>: brickroad16/inafadinglight**  
>Rating<strong>: PG/K  
><strong>Pairings<strong>: Chuck/Sarah, Devon/Ellie, Morgan/Alex**  
>Characters<strong>: Chuck, Sarah, Devon, Ellie, Morgan, Alex, Clara, multiple OCs**  
>Spoilers<strong>: Slight for 4.13, and S5 in general**  
>Summary<strong>: After three decades of marriage, Chuck tries to find the perfect gift for his wife, while Sarah struggles with hosting the entire family for Christmas, minus her youngest daughter, who has followed in her footsteps.**  
>Disclaimer<strong>: Not mine. Neither is "I'll Be Home for Christmas," which is now a Christmas standard, but was originally recorded by Bing Crosby in 1943.**  
><strong>

**A/N**: I wanted to write a _Chuck_ Christmas fic, but given that I'm extremely entertained by and thrilled with this season, I was at a loss for what to write about. I considered going back to an earlier season for inspiration, but I finally settled on this. Sorry it's a bit late. Hope you enjoy it!

Also, Alex and Morgan were completely adorable this episode, which was definitely my favorite of the season so far. Except for maybe next week's, which looks spectacular.

* * *

><p><em>Christmas Eve will find me<br>Where the love light gleams  
>I'll be home for Christmas<br>If only in my dreams_  
>- "I'll Be Home for Christmas"<p>

He doesn't mean to leave the majority of his Christmas shopping until December 23rd, but there are so many demands on his time now. The company, the house, the family. He tries to remember when it all got so crazy, when life got too fast and too complicated for him to appreciate the small things. As it is, he finds himself in the middle of the mall, amidst a crowd of frazzled last-minute shoppers and their ill-behaved children screaming for presents.

With a shake of his head, he shuts out the noise of the throng, ignores the aroma of freshly-baked cinnamon-roasted almonds, turns, and heads toward the jewelry shop.

As always, the store is shimmering, full of glittering things that dazzle and shine. He's never been much of a fan of jewelry stores, overpriced and set up to fool you into buying the most expensive ring or necklace or whatever it may be, despite what you may actually be looking for. But after thirty years full of new-fangled electronics, ugly sweaters, and the latest kitchen appliances, his wife deserves a little something special this year.

There's a guy in his late 20s behind the counter with a neatly-trimmed goatee and a bored expression, even with the Christmas rush. The clerk eyes him suspiciously as he steps up and places his hands lightly on the glass. His eyes widen as he waits to be greeted, but that doesn't happen (because it's Christmas, and that's a crazy expectation, right?), so he jumps right in.

"I'm looking for a gift for my wife. I don't suppose you could help me?" When the clerk refuses to smile, he looks at him discerningly for a moment, because this young guy probably has a trust fund from his parents and hates his job and has a model girlfriend who only loves him for his money. Then he takes a step back, and says, "You know what? Never mind. I think I got this," before pulling out his cell phone and walking away.

* * *

><p>She rips a piece of tape off the dispenser and secures the last bit of wrapping paper on one of her gifts for Ellie just as Chuck walks through the door. She feels a familiar smile come to her face. His hair is streaked with gray at the temples, laugh lines crease his eyes, and he's taken to wearing glasses after so many years of staring at computer screens, but every time she looks at him, she can still remember the way he looked the first day they met, the first time her heart fluttered when he said her name.<p>

"Hey, sweetie," he says, smiling widely and crossing the room to drop onto the couch beside her. He presses a kiss to her forehead. "How's the wrapping going?"

"Nearly finished," she informs him. A pile of gifts wrapped in red and gold paper already sits beneath the tree, lit up with white lights and covered in ornaments, colored bulbs and candy canes and homemade reindeers. A smaller unwrapped stack sits beside her on the couch. She picks up a book from the top of the stack and asks, "Should I even bother wrapping Kate's gifts?"

The holiday wrapping paper will be out-of-date by the time she finally gets to open them. Their youngest has always been the bravest, and, after her adventures and misadventures in the spy life, she can't begrudge her only daughter the experiences she's making for herself, even if it means she has to miss a Bartowski family Christmas.

Chuck gives her hand a light squeeze. "Why not? We'll pull a few old strings and find a way to get them to her, I promise. What about everything else? What else needs to be done for the Bartowski Christmas extravaganza?"

"Did Ellie text you her list?" she chuckles.

The list she's been given is twenty items long, and she's only halfway finished with it, but she can handle it. The moment she won't be able to handle it is if Ellie decides to go off-list for any reason that would constitute a holiday emergency. And a holiday emergency absolutely cannot happen this year.

"Of course."

She picks up the last non-Kate present to begin wrapping and asks cheekily, "And you're working on it?"

He grins. "Without fail." He watches her for a moment before querying, "Steve's picking Matt up?"

"That's what he said. He's getting in late tonight. They'll all be here tomorrow."

She brightens up at the prospect of seeing her sons and daughter-in-law, but her face falls when she, once again, remembers they'll be one Bartowski short.

"Thinking about Kate?" Chuck murmurs gently.

She nods. "I just . . . I spent so long finding family, it's hard for me to understand how she could walk away from it so easily."

He takes the half-wrapped present from her hands and sets it on the coffee table, then takes her face between his palms. "She didn't walk away, and what she did, she didn't do easily. I promise, Sarah."

As she stares into her husband's eyes, as warm and brown and welcoming as they were thirty years ago, she knows it's true. "You're right. I'm sorry. This is our first Christmas without the entire family together."

"I hate the idea, too."

"I'm so proud of her though."

"I will be, until we find out how far Carina's influence has gone that is," he laughs, and she smacks him lightly in the shoulder.

She can't help but grin as she thinks of Carina, who has spent increasing amounts of time with the family over the years but had still jumped at the chance to mentor Kate, which meant increasing amounts of time in the field, and each stretch seems longer and longer to Sarah. On her worst days, she dreads what sort of effect her old friend is wreaking over her last-born. Then again, maybe it will be the other way around, and the mentee will be the good influence over the mentor.

* * *

><p>Steve is barely aware of his jaw dropping open as he spots his little brother riding down the airport escalator, an oversized canvas duffel hooked on one shoulder and his other arm around a tall, slender brunette with pale skin and a dazzling smile. He experiences just a flicker of irrational jealousy before reminding himself he's got a gorgeous wife waiting for himself at home, and then it turns to disbelief, because that's his dorky moron of a brother whom he never really expected to get his act together.<p>

But the proof is right before his eyes. And then he breaks out into a wide grin as he wraps Matt into a bear hug.

"Look at you, Mattie! What'd they feed you over there? I swear you've grown six inches since the last time I saw you."

He's nearly as tall as Steve now, with dark brown hair like their father's and their mother's enigmatic blue eyes.

"Hey, big bro," Matt booms happily.

Letting go of his brother, Steve offers his hand to the brunette. "I'm Steve, Matt's older brother."

She smiles charmingly as she shakes his hand. "Diana. It's a pleasure," she says, and he's surprised (though perhaps he shouldn't be, given that Matt's been globetrotting for the past eight months) to hear a British accent.

As they begin to make their way through the airport, Steve says, "I promise I won't interrogate you on the ride home, but I have to know: what in the world did this goofball do to get you to go out with him? And then come home with him!"

Diana's laugh is lilting and musical, and Matt slides an arm around her waist to pull her close, even as a blush colors his cheeks. With a graceful shrug, she replies, "We met in a coffee shop, which is as typical as you can get, I'm afraid. There's nothing quite as charming as a American who's dirty and smelly from backpacking through your country and lost because his map is falling apart from being folded and refolded."

"So what happened?"

"I told him how to get to the Mount and he bought me a cup of coffee. And before I knew it, the Bartowski charm had already worked its magic, as he likes to say."

Steve lifts up a hand to fist pound his baby bro. "That's the way to use your inheritance, Mattie boy. So proud."

Matt, chuckling, says, "So, scale of one to ten, how big of a shock will Mom and Dad get tomorrow when Diana walks in?"

"You coulda helped them out a bit by answering your cell more often, you know. Or even giving us a little head's up."

"Okay, you can yell at me later. I'm banking on them being distracted with Kate being gone and all."

They reach the end of the terminal, make their way out into the balmy night air, and head through the parking lot toward the car.

"It's gonna be weird without her, isn't it?"

Matt nods. A moment later, he remarks, "I bet Mom's pretty broken up about it."

"You know what she's like," Steve answers, meaning: _She wouldn't tell us even if she were_. "Having you back will help though."

They find the car, and he pops the lock.

Matt tosses his bag into the trunk. "Yeah, and if nothing else works, she's always got Dad."

"How long have your parents been married?" Diana inquires politely as Matt opens the passenger door for her.

Steve slides into the driver's seat before answering, "What's it been, Matt? 30 years this past May, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's so sweet," Diana says.

"You think that until you realize they act like 20-somethings all the time," Matt laughs.

A charming smile gracing her lips, Diana protests softly, "I still think it's sweet."

Matt leans forward from the back seat to brush a kiss across her cheek, and Steve puts the car in drive and pulls out of the parking space, beginning the journey home.

* * *

><p>Ellie washes a handful of cucumbers, places them on the cutting board, and slices them up with a fervor she hasn't let herself succumb to since Jack moved out of the house four years ago. With both him and his older sister gone to start their lives, Ellie and Devon had taken their empty nest feelings of loss and loneliness, and turned them into a positive opportunity to slow down and spend more time with each other. Fewer work hours, more home hours. Fewer two-minute, pass-you-on-the-way-out-here's-a-poptart breakfasts; more sit-down dinners at restaurants they 'never had the time to try' before. Less hosting, more guesting.<p>

The rules take a hiatus during the holidays though. And this Christmas has to be even more special, because it's looking like her only niece won't be here to celebrate with them, and no matter how much Sarah says she's fine, Ellie's certain the ache of missing her must be more than she can stand.

Devon's been taking advantage of Jack living so close by taking him on errands every day for the past week. They're even out at the mall this morning, braving the crowds for some last-minute items. Clara and her family – husband David, daughter Mary and Samantha – are driving up from San Diego this afternoon to join the festivities. Morgan and Alex's two boys, Casey and Malcolm, flew in from NYC last weekend after a brotherly-bonding ski trip in the Poconos. Their daughter, a senior at Stanford, is home on break. Chuck and Sarah's older son, Steve, and his wife also live in the area and have been helping with preparations already. A bigger surprise is younger brother Matt, who's taken a break from exploring Europe to fly back for the holiday.

As crazy as their lives have become, Ellie loves this time of the year. It's the only day when they can slow down and be _together_, even the extended family. And she hates that one of them will be missing come tomorrow. She looks up and over at her sister-in-law of thirty years, working on the cranberry sauce.

"You doing OK?" she asks gently.

Sarah lifts her chin. Ellie can still remember the way she used to smile, when she and Chuck were only 'fake dating,' when her life consisted of nothing but a cover and protecting her brother as an asset instead of a human being. But that smile's changed and grown over the years, and, thankfully, she makes no effort to act happier than she is today.

"As well as can be expected," she laughs, "when we've got seven kids and two grandkids invading the house in a matter of hours and Chuck's nowhere to be found."

Ellie frowns. "He didn't tell you where he was going?"

Sarah shakes her head. "Took off early this morning. Said he had something important to take care of."

"Are you sure he's not with Devon and Jack? They've been out getting last-minute gifts all day. They haven't checked in either."

"Maybe, but I think he left earlier." Sarah waves the knife in her hand. "Anyways, he'll be back by dinner. He promised. And it's not like we don't have things to keep us busy until then, right?"

Ellie, a smile on her face, watches Sarah go back to work. As always, she's amazed by her sister-in-law's resilience.

"Right," she confirms. "And don't worry, Sarah. It's going to be a great Christmas."

* * *

><p>"The boys are here!"<p>

The call rings out through the house, sending Sarah and Ellie into the crowded living room for visual confirmation. Ellie rushes forward to warmly embrace Steve and Julie. Sarah watches from the archway before Steve approaches her for his hug.

"Merry Christmas, Mom."

"Hello, Steve," is all she says, but she knows he can hear everything else she wants to say.

Just as she and Julie part, Matt walks timidly into the room, removing his baseball cap. "Hey, Mom," he grins.

"Mattie . . ."

"Got a surprise for you." He leans out the doorway, and when he returns, he's holding the hand of a beautiful brunette. "Mom, Aunt Ellie, Uncle Devon, everyone, this is Diana. My wife."

The living room erupts in noise as Steve guffaws from somewhere near the Christmas tree, sparkling with white lights.

Sarah, beaming, walks forward to embrace her new daughter-in-law. "Welcome to the family, Diana," she says.

"Yeah, I'm sorry you have to meet us all at the craziest time of the year," Morgan interjects.

"It's lovely to be here," Diana tells them with a winning smile. "Thank you so much for having me."

"Hey, as long as we're making announcements," Steve says, taking his wife's hand, "Julie and I have something to say. Wait, where's Dad?"

Morgan clears his throat. "The Chuckster's on a special holiday mission."

"He'll be back for dinner though," Sarah assures him. "Go ahead."

Steve sighs. "OK, then, well, I guess we'll tell him later." Turning to Sarah he says, "Congrats, Mom. Or should I call you 'Grandma'?"

For the second time in five minutes, the room explodes with exclamations of surprise and congratulations. Amidst the ruckus, Diana leans over and asks Matt, "What did he mean by 'mission'?"

* * *

><p>Alex pops her head into the kitchen to find Devon and Malcolm sorting through and opening bottles of wine.<p>

"How's it coming in here?"

Malcolm holds up a bottle of pino. "You like this, Mom?"

"Sure. Why, what's the matter?"

Devon waves his arm toward the wine selection. "We've got an abundance of wine to choose from. I think Sarah wanted to save the shiraz for dinner, but when's it look like that'll happen?"

Alex sighs. "I don't know. Chuck was supposed to be here a half-hour ago. Neither of you have heard from him by any chance, have you?"

"Sorry, Mom," replies Mal. "Have you asked Dad?"

"He hasn't either. And he's not answering his cell."

"You don't think there's something wrong, do you?"

"I'm sure everything's fine."

Devon sets down a bottle, walks over to her, and drops his voice to ask, "You don't think he's reverted to his old tendency of . . . getting distracted, do you?"

Alex mulls that over, tipping her head. The whole gang has been out of the game for so long that she has a hard time believing it, even with Kate's career choice. "I'm sure it's fine," she says again.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Devon agrees tentatively. He holds a glass of wine toward her. "Maybe take this to Sarah though. I think she might need it."

* * *

><p>"Who wants dessert?" Sarah asks, standing up at the head of the table.<p>

Clara's heart falls a little bit for her aunt. In all her thirty years, she's never seen her uncle disappoint her this much. And for it to happen at Christmas sends awful thoughts about Uncle Chuck through her head. Dinner's been subdued. No one's dared to mention Chuck's absence, even as they subtly hold their phones beneath the table and try to get in contact with him. Her fist curls around her dinner knife. As much as she's loved him over the years – with all the trips to the zoo and Dodger games and the game nights and the stuffed chameleon they gave her when she was three that she still sometimes carries around – she could murder him, and she might if he were to walk through that door this very moment.

Jack, seeming to catch her thoughts, stands and offers, "Let me help you, Aunt Sare."

They disappear into the kitchen, leaving the dining room in a state of restrained conversation. Just as her father clears his throat to, undoubtedly, launch into a harmless topic, the front door creaks open. No one else seems to hear. Clara strains her ears and looks up at the entranceway connecting the dining and living rooms.

She's the first one to see when Uncle Chuck strides in, unzipping his jacket and pulling off a beanie.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he announces.

Conversation stops as everyone at the table turns to regard the newcomer. After a brief, stunned silence, her mother stands up. Chuck opens his arms for a hug, but Ellie punches him hard in the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"Ellie!" cries her father.

Clara smiles. She's always loved her mom's fierce sense of protecting the family.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ellie hisses.

But Uncle Chuck's attention is drawn from his sister as Aunt Sarah appears at the other end of the room, hovering in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen. They exchange a long look, through which Clara thinks she discerns everything like remorse and forgiveness and trust and unconditional love. Another thing she's always admired about her family – about her mom and dad, about Uncle Chuck and Aunt Sarah, even about Uncle Morgan and Aunt Alex – love really does seem to conquer all, and it's why she has hope in her own marriage, so young compared to the examples in this house. Her gaze still focused on Uncle Chuck, she reaches over and takes David's hand. He responds by gently squeezing her fingers.

"I'm an idiot, I know," Chuck begins, "but I had one final gift to pick up."

"Chuck, you know no gift is worth more than you being here for Christmas Eve," Sarah begins quickly, her voice low in front of the gathered family members.

A smile tugs at his lips. "Yeah, I do, but I think you're gonna make an exception for this one." He turns in the direction of the front door and shouts, "You can come in now!"

A moment later, a redhead who still manages to be stunning despite her nearly sixty years of age, one of Aunt Sarah's old work friends, struts into the room.

"Merry Christmas, Walker," she drawls, a wicked grin on her lips.

"Good to see you, too, Carina," Sarah smiles. She lifts a brow. "You couldn't have come in yesterday, made this a bit easier on us? Maybe done it without all the secrecy?"

"Oh, you think _I_'m your present? Hate to burst your bubble, Walker, but no. You should know though, this present is mostly from me."

"Uh, partly," Chuck says nervously. "Only partly."

"But really, mostly me."

Uncle Chuck's grin grows even wider, and Clara can't suppress a surprised and delighted laugh as her cousin Kate appears, looking cheerful and stylish and even a little grown up in dark jeans, high heels, and a brown leather jacket she may have stolen from Aunt Sarah before she left.

Aunt Sarah's mouth drops open. Tears glimmer in her eyes, though she won't let them fall even in front of her closest family members.

Kate crosses the room swiftly to wrap her arms around her mother and squeeze tightly. "Merry Christmas, Mom," she murmurs in her ear. "I love you."

Over Kate's shoulder, Sarah grins. "Welcome home, baby girl. Welcome home."

* * *

><p>Chuck climbs into bed, grateful for the warmth of the covers, the warmth of his wife beside him. He slides his arms around her waist, nuzzles into her, and lets out a long sigh, releasing all the tension and strain he's felt over the past few weeks.<p>

"I'm still mad at you, you know," Sarah murmurs.

"What?" he queries incredulously, his eyes already closed. "That's absurd. Didn't you know magic was coming your way?"

She elbows him gently. "You couldn't have called?"

Opening his eyes, he lifts his head to look down at her. "Ah, that. Sarah, I'm so sorry. It was just . . . really dumb."

She quirks a brow.

He folds, pressing his forehead into her temple. "I think I might've wrapped it."

She shifts so that they're both on their sides, facing each other. "What? As in –"

"As in I think it fell in a box and I wrapped it right along with the gift."

A slow smile spreads over her face, and she leans forward to press a kiss to his lips. "Oh, Chuck," she says with exasperation, but he's sure she means something along the lines of: _That's my oblivious, thoughtless, yet eminently adorable and loveable husband_.

She settles back down on the pillow, hair still blonde after all these years, eyes still blue as the day they met and he felt like he was falling into an ocean for her. When he was 27 and 28 and 29, he couldn't quite believe she was in his life. He'd have to sit there and stare at her and ask himself if she was real. Even now, with their dream house and safe, steady jobs and three grown kids to show for the love between them, he sometimes finds it hard to fathom why on earth she chose _him_.

But then he remembers. She's the spirit that lifted him, and he's the care that grounded her. She's the soft to his loud, the less to his more, the calm to his frenzy.

He pulls her close and drops a kiss on her forehead. "Hey, I know I could've gone about everything better."

"Chuck, you've always been big on surprises. It's something I've had to get used to for the past three decades."

"I know, but I just wanted you to know that I apologize." He gives her a warm squeeze. "And that I love you."

"I appreciate that, Chuck," she assures him, sliding her palms up to rest on his chest, "and I appreciate _you_, and I'm so thankful you brought our daughter home, even if it's just for a little while."

"Well, I promised you a long time ago that family would always be most important."

All he's ever wanted for her is the thing that only _he_ could give her – a real family – and over their thirty years, he's never let go of that.

"And, as you've proven time and again, you always keep your promises, Mr. Bartowski." She presses a deep kiss to his lips. "Which is only one of the many reasons I love you."

Chuck, smiling, kisses her again. "Merry Christmas, Sarah."

"Merry Christmas, Chuck."

He settles comfortably against his wife, drops a soft kiss in her hair, and closes his eyes. He can feel her breathing, her chest rising and falling, her breath light against his collarbone. It's a reminder that life is special, that love is precious, and that their family has been immeasurably blessed.


End file.
